Still Haven't Found What I'm Lookin' For
by HailToTheKing
Summary: New Vegas fic about a MALE courier and his search to find out who he was. Gonna be a lot of violence, swearing, and some sex. Will have all companions and DLC spinoffs. Gonna have MCourierxCass and it's "M" for steamy sex dammit!
1. Waking Up

His head was still pulsating painfully, even after he downed his third beer and seventh shot of vodka.

Being shot will do that to you.

He sat in the Prospector's Saloon nursing the drink and his massive urge to kill something when the door swung open forcefully and slammed against the wall.

To him it sounded like a grenade going off in his head.

Through the door came a black man wearing a suit with a Kevlar vest strapped to the shirt, and partially covered by the navy blazer. He walked with a certain arrogant swagger amplified by the shiny .357 lightly patting his leg in its holster. He strode up to Trudy, the bartender, and slammed a fist into the oak bar.

Another grenade went off in the now slightly sobered man's head, and further increased his urge to kill.

Trudy put down the shot glass she was cleaning and placed a hand on her hip.

"The fuck do you want Cobb?"

"You know what I want. I know that asshole is here, and I don't give a shit if I gotta burn this town down to find his ass,"

Trudy's eyes went wide for a split-second then returned to her cold stare.

"Ringo is not here Cobb, and if you aren't going to buy something then leave. Now,"

Cobb sneered at the female bartender, and bumped his elbow into the now sober man as he turned to leave. As if by an act of fate he looked down at the drunk.

"You got a problem?"

The man didn't respond. Instead he stared down at his drink, hoping that Cobb would just leave.

"I said, do you have a problem?"

As the question left his lips Cobb placed a hand on the man's shoulder, and to his surprise the man reacted completely opposite to what he expected. Cobb expected hurried apologies, but instead the man grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand to the bar. Then, he quickly drew a kitchen knife from his waist, and plunged it through Cobb's hand into the wood of the bar. Cobb screamed in pain, and the man picked up his now empty beer bottle and smashed it against Cobb's head, knocking him out cold.

"Goddamn, what the hell was that?"

Trudy hadn't moved from her spot out of pure shock at the speed of the man she'd seen drinking for the past hour.

"Should've just left,"

The man sighed heavily and pulled his knife out of Cobb's hand. The black man's body slumped heavily to the ground.

"You know he is going to wake up, and them damn Powder Gangers are gonna raise hell here right?"

The man nodded and scratched the stubble forming on his face.

"Looks like everyone is fighting then?"

Trudy threw her hands up in the air with an exasperated gasp.

"Well, I fucking guess so! Your ass is helping to. What is your name by the way?"

The man looked at her.

"Y'know….. I'm not exactly sure,"


	2. Goodsprings Militia?

"This plan is reckless, dangerous, and insane,"

The young man smiled as he laid down the last bundle of dynamite the old man had given him. They were supposed to be distributed amongst the armed and armored volunteer militia, but the man had different plans. His idea was to stick Sunny Smiles on the saloon's roof and have her shoot bundles of dynamite carefully place on the rout into town when the powder gangers came a'knockin'. Ol' Pete had never seen something as crazy in his entire life, and was keen to say so.

"Well, what better plan do you have Easy?"

The old man leaned back and scratched his white beard.

"I guess I ain't got one sonny,"

The man smiled and chuckled.

"Then I guess reckless is the way to go huh?"

The old man turned and waved his hand back toward the younger man.

"If you need me I'll be in the saloon behind something solid,"

"Yeah, go on and get something to drink,"

The young man turned and trotted over to Trudy, who was standing by the entrance to the saloon. She cradled a single barreled shotgun in her arms, looking at the boy expecting something. The boy stepped up onto the porch and looked back at her. A small standoff occurred until Trudy finally opened her mouth.

"What the hell do you want us to do?"

She brandished her empty hand at the two score militia standing near the saloon. The boy chuckled and sighed.

"Whew, I thought you were gonna ask me something crazy like where I'm from,"

Trudy glared at him angrily.

"Everyone needs to take cover around the saloon. No one needs to be peeking out until I yell so. Sunny should be able to get a lot of them with the dynamite,"

"What about you then courier?"

As soon as she'd said that the boy stopped in his tracks.

"Why'd you call me that?"

She huffed at him.

"Well, I assumed that's what you were jackass,"

The courier thought for a second. He couldn't remember more than fuzzy images and muted voices of his past, but courier seemed to be familiar. Had he been a courier? Why the hell would he want a boring job like that? After his brief pondering he quickly answered the barkeep.

"Well, I'll be the bait,"

"What?"

"I am gonna stand on this here porch, and take some wild shots at them,"

As if to finalize his point he patted the holstered 9mm on his waist. Trudy opened her mouth to argue, but just left it moot. Best to let him do what he wants.

The gangers didn't arrive until dusk. The courier guessed they were going to try some kinda sneaky night-time deal, but when they began to approach the town brandishing their assorted lot of firearms and blunt objects he was proven wrong.

"Hell, let's get this party started,"

The man pulled his pistol out, and crouched down by the porch's edge, aiming for the farthest out ganger to the left and right. He squeezed off a few rounds, and smiled as their left flank closed into the center. He popped off another couple shots, only this time he scored a hit.

"Fuck! Charge that asshole before he kills anyone!"

The courier chuckled as they entered the first "kill-zone", and Sunny's shot hit true. The blast blew the majority of them off their feet, and sent the sprawling in all directions. He didn't know how many were dead, but Cobb wasn't. The motley crew reformed and renewed their charge.

Straight into the next blast radius.

Unfortunately, Cobb had expected this and lagged behind with a few gangers while the others were caught in the second blast. The courier watched the gangers fly in every direction, but was slightly startled to see Cobb and his group still alive.

"Damnit!"

The man yelled for the militia to open fire, and began firing at Cobb while walking forward into a firefight.


	3. Siege!

Sunny cursed under her breath as she desperately tried to clear a jam in her rifle. This was the third time it happened today, and now was not the best time. The supposedly small group of gangers they had been fighting was now a large group. Reinforcements had come from down the road, and were assisting in Cobb's siege of Goodsprings. The courier was crouched behind a rock with a rifle taken of a ganger's dead body, and he was blindly shooting it at the gangers. The only thing Sunny was thankful of was that they hadn't lost anyone yet. Mainly due to lack of firepower on the gangers side, and the leather armor Chet had provided the militia. She cleared the jam and set the rifle back over the roof to return fire.

The courier spat onto the dirt. He was getting pissed at how long this was taking. They could run out of ammo any minute now with the potshots the volunteers were taking, and the gangers were trying to make a rush for the last little batch of dynamite just a few feet from his current position. He sat for a second and tried to think over the gunfire and swearing. They needed an advantage. If he could get a hold of that dynamite he could break it apart and throw it stick by stick, but that would require getting' right up into the heated crossfire.

Risk he was going to have to take.

He dropped the rifle and propelled himself over the rock with a jump, and landed in a roll. As quick as he could he grabbed the bundle of explosives, and jumped back into cover, but not before a searing hot bullet ripped into his thigh. He landed hard on his side behind cover, and began swearing up a storm.

"Goddamnit shit fucking cock-sucking bastards!"

He fumbled at the small pouch on his waist for the stimpack the Doc had given him. Once he got his hand around it he jammed it straight into his thigh, near the bullet would. As the medicine began to take effect he quickly checked for an exit wound, and found none. Shit, he thought as he began to panic. That stimpack was going to boost the speed his skin sewed itself back together, and if that bullet was in there he was going to have to get it cut out later.

Fuck that.

He screamed in pain as he drove a finger into his wound to pull the bullet out. He swished the finger around until he managed to hook the small ball of lead, and dragged it out with an audible sigh once the intruding finger was gone. His vision swam, and he felt like he was about to black out, but he shook his head violently to push it away.

Trudy's mouth hung low as she registered what she'd just seen. That courier had just dug a bullet straight out of his own damn leg, and started chucking sticks of dynamite at the gangers.

He was more insane than she thought.

He was a good throw though, and managed to kill a lot of gangers with well placed tosses. Now all that was left was Cobb, and he was even out of ammunition. The militia surrounded him, and he raised his hands in defeat.

"What the fuck you gonna do now? You let me go and I'll be back with more men to get that asshole,"

Cobb sneered hatefully with the startling fact he just presented.

"I know,"

That was all the courier said as he raised his pistol and shot Cobb in the head. The militia let out a mixed reaction. Few gasped, and some cheered, but most stayed silent. They knew that their impromptu militia was now there to stay. Trudy hated that fact, but she always knew it was necessary. They were fools to wait this long to form it up, and she silently thanked the young man for showing up.

Courier patted Ringo on the shoulder after he pocketed the small baggie of caps he'd give him. Thought he didn't have any money, the courier thought to himself as he walked toward Trudy. This was a victory, and that made him feel good. He didn't know why. Most would see a firefight as something to avoid, but the courier felt at home in it. Strange, but he expected it to get worse as the future got closer.

Now, he thought, Gotta see that Trudy about who shot me.


	4. Fuck Democracy

The metal chair groaned as the courier leaned back in it. He swung his booted feet up onto the desk in the small office building, and stretched his arms back relishing the feeling as his joints popped. He hadn't slept long, his mind was clouded with replays of the gunshot, and with the information Trudy had given him. The man in the checkered suit was named Benny. She said he was from the Strip, and the men who buried him were Great Khans. This all was a lot to process.

What could he have done to warrant a death sentence?

He was a courier, or so he was told, but what could he have been carrying that was so valuable a man like Benny would collect it himself?

More than that, what would a person rich enough to live on the Strip be doing with Khans?

The Khans were chem dealers from what Trudy had told him, and more than that their numbers had been crippled by the New California Republic's occupation. Though, from what he gathered about the NCR, Caesar's Legion was giving them a run for their money.

A lot to process…

Trudy had directed him to a nearby town called Primm. Said there was a guy there named Nash that could probably help him find out about what he was carrying. He had walked almost all night, and considered himself very lucky to find this building.

Jean Sky Diving.

Weren't nobody flying anymore.

The building was small. A desk and a computer with a few lockers against the back wall, but the desk he was using as a footrest had a 9mm with a few magazines inside of it. Lucky, he guessed, but the pistol he had on him was in way better shape than the one in the drawer. A key on the desk opened one of the lockers, and it had the nice pair of boots plus a satchel bag inside. There was a flight jumpsuit as well, but what would he use it for?

He fiddled with the Pip-boy the old doctor gave him. It chafed his wrist a little, but it was making itself slightly useful. It was a flashlight, map, radio, medical utensil, and it had the nifty function of recording his voice to transcribe as notes, or audio files. Oh, it also had an alarm. The courier flicked over to map screen and checked the location of Primm. From the looks of it he could probably get there before sundown. He stood up, and slipped the bag over his shoulder. He kept the armor Chet provided him, but with a few modifications. He tore the sleeves off and turned the top into a leather vest with a sleeve-less shirt underneath. He took the torn sleeves and sewed them into the pants for extra protection at the thighs and shins. He didn't know why he did the modifying, but he knew it felt right.

Like he had worn it before.

Johnson Nash rested his elbows on the cashier's counter in the Vicki and Vance Casino. His gaze cast over the frightened group of people inhabiting the roulette and blackjack tables. He sighed heavily as he counted all the heads again.  
>Thirty two.<p>

Wally's boy finally passed from the gunshot wound.

Johnson could hear Wally's grief from across the building, hell everyone could, no one was saying a damn thing. Not even Ruby was, and she was the most talkative person Johnson ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Thirty two people out of a community of over a hundred.

Of course, some had simply run. Making for the relative safety of the Mojave Outpost, and the NCR "soldiers" stationed there. The ones who had a backbone stayed and fought for what they had worked hard to build. Small farms, Brahmin herds, and the Mojave Express, but if something didn't happen soon the Powder Gangers were going to kill them off and take the town completely under their control.

"I'm getting too damn old to do anything anymore," Johnson mumbled to himself as tears welled up in his eyes.

Outside the town of Primm, across the old highway intersection, there was a small grouping of tents with NCR troops guarding the entrance to the town.

And from the "Command" tent a rather furious young man barged out flipping both middle fingers back toward the NCR lieutenant.

"I guess I'll do your goddamn job for you then fuckers!" he shouted as he made his way toward the guard post at the intersection entrance.  
>Primm had hope after all, albeit slightly different than Johnson Nash had hoped. <p>


	5. The Price of Peace

"You hear that?"

"Sounds like gunfire!"

"Maybe the NCR finally got the order to help?"

"Now, now, calm down everyone!" Johnson waved his hands about to calm the agitated mob down.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'll look into it."

"No Mr. Nash it's not safe!"

"You'll get shot!"

Johnson began to formulate an argument when the doors to the casino opened. He and the citizens were surprised to see a single man strut into the casino splattered with blood. He casually holstered a pistol and slipped a kitchen knife into the side of his boot. He gave the group a slightly startled look.

"Oh…. Hey…" he said slowly as he looked around the casino.

"I was expecting more gangers to be honest, but it's nice to see people are alive," he chuckled a little at the end of the statement.

"Who… Are you son?" Johnson said with a flabbergasted look.

"So, I was number Six?" the Courier asked.

"Yep, right here it says so. 'Nother guy was slated for your spot, but refused. Saw who you were and said 'Let Courier Six' take it," Nash said

"Huh, bastard,"

"Another piece of casserole sonny?" Ruby asked Courier.

"Yes, please, ma'am,"

Ruby slid a hot chunk of radscorpion casserole onto his plate and walked back toward the kitchen of the Mojave Express.

"Now, I was gonna ask you son, can you help Primm out just a little more?"

"Sure, what would you ask of me?"

"Well, y'see, those damn gangers killed Sheriff McBain and his wife and took Deputy Beagle as a hostage. They're holed up in the hotel just down the street, and if they don't get gone they're just gonna take back the town once you're gone,"

"Oh, yeah, that wouldn't be good. The damn NCR pussies across the intersection won't do shit because of "orders"," the Courier scoffed at that.

"Exactly, and I'll tell you what, see that old robot over there?" Johnson pointed at an Eyebot lying on the ground next to a mailbox.

"Yeah, I was gonna ask about that,"

"All that damn thing needs is a few sensor modules and scrap to get it running again, and I got the junk for it. I'll give it to you to do what you like if you can get Beagle's dumbass out alive,"

"Well hell," Courier laid his silver wear down on the counter "That won't be a problem Mr. Nash,"

The Courier waited an hour before slipping out of the Mojave Express. That way he could catch at least one sumbitch asleep on the job, and drop him before things got too bad. Hell, these idiots couldn't shoot for shit, but there were enough that he didn't want them to know he was there. His plan was to sneak in, grab Beagle, slip back out, and then slip back in to get the leader. With the leader gone the rest would run back to the prison they came from.

The door slid open easily, and the snoozing guard didn't stir. Courier crept low around the desk and covered the guard's mouth while plunging the knife into his neck. For a brief moment they locked eyes before he died, and they glazed over. Courier looked over his body for anything good, and found a couple sticks of dynamite and a half empty box of 5.56mm bullets. On the desk lay a small homemade "varmint" rifle ranchers used to scare off mole rats, and bloatflys. Picking up the rifle, and filling up the near-empty magazine the Courier continued around to the gift shop. He rifled through a couple registers, and snagged a handful of caps.

Suddenly he heard two voices chattering outside. He set the rifle on the ground and drew the knife slowly…

"Yeah, you better check on Jimmy's lazy ass. Goddamn NCR could come in here shootin' and he wouldn't wake up,"

"Yeah yeah fucker, you better save me some booze,"

One of the gangers turned back and walked away, leaving the other to his fate. Courier slipped around the corner and slit his throat just as he saw "Jimmy's" life-less corpse. Taking care not to alert any others, he slowly let the body drop, and dragged it into the gift shop.

No need to let them know I'm here just yet, he thought.

He walked down the hallway past an elevator, and noticed a door to his left. It read "Kitchen Access Staff Only" on it, and was locked tight.

The Courier chuckled as he slipped a bobby pin into the keyhole, and reached for the screwdriver at his waist.

Deputy Beagle silently mourned his fate. In his mind he was already dead. The gangers were gonna kill him soon, and weren't no one coming to save his hide.

He blinked back tears as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Just hang on a sec and you'll be free," a voice whispered in his ear.

Salvation, he thought, Someone came to rescue me!

He turned to see his rescuer, and instantly felt the man's hand clamp over his mouth.

"They're just beyond that door, and they'll hear us. Way out is clear if you hurry. I'll talk to you once this is over,"

Beagle nodded and began to beat feet out of that hellhole of an inn.

The Courier watched Beagle leave, and began to think of a plan. He estimated at least five gangers by the voices he could hear outside the kitchen doors. His pool of options was small. He had dynamite, and a fragmentation mine he defused from the road into Primm. The dynamite would most certainly damage the building itself, but the mine. The mine would only do a significant amount of cosmetic damage to the walls.

He pondered for a minute as where the best place was for the mine…

Chopper's head felt woozy from the beer as he watched Mickey make an ass of himself dancing and singin' to some damn tune he heard on the radio.

But when he heard the clatter from the kitchen he immediately sobered up.

"Get in there and make sure that coward's still there!" he yelled at the men in the rooms with him.

They rushed into the kitchen, and noticing he was gone, began running down the hallway back to the foyer.

The explosion was loud enough to hurt Chopper's ears to where he could barely make out the screams of pain. He turned to run out the main entrance and saw a figure standing there.

A man in his twenties with a rifle leveled at him.

"No, listen man, wait-"

He was cut off by the bullet impacting his right kneecap.

His scream of pain only intensified as another round ripped into his right shoulder, sending him spinning to the ground on his back.

He began mumbling pleas of help as the man drug him out into the street in front of the inn.

"HEAR ME POWDER GANGERS!" the man boomed.

"IF YOU DON'T HIGH-TAIL YOUR SORRY ASSES OUT OF HERE THIS IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU TOO!"

Chopper knew he was fucked then, and just screamed as the man began hitting him. The man hit him again and again until his face was swollen with bruises, and he couldn't even manage a whimper anymore.

"I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN!" The man declared before snapping Chopper's neck, sending him to a place where the pain wasn't there anymore, and he could see his daughter again.

Johnson watched the display the Courier put on with a horrified look, and was glad Ruby was asleep. He hadn't seen sheer brutality like that out of a seemingly nice young man in his life, but as gangers began filing out of the Bison Steve throwing down what weapons they had and running away from town Johnson was slightly glad the boy had passed through town.

Still… The sight of him beating that man would haunt Johnson for a while.


	6. Dreams and Realities

She's waiting for him…

Sitting on the patched quilt with a small lunch ready for them. The pre-war dress is faded and wrinkled, but it still looks beautiful on her. Black hair frames her heart shaped face, and her green eyes shine when she smiles at him. He walks over and sits down, feeling a heavy burden lift from his shoulders. They look at each other, and remain silent for some time before he smells something.

Sulfur?

He looks away to notice the quilt is burning at the edges. He turns back toward her and recoils in horror. He can see straight through a hole in her head. From this side it's small, but he knows the back of her head is gone. His eyes frantically look around at hundreds of blurry figures , and the smell of sulfur grows stronger.

He can feel the heat now.

The figures are shouting at him, but he can't understand what they are saying. He feels a cold hand pull him away from her, and he screams to be let go. As they pull him away she never stops smiling at him. The figures throw him into a hole, and disappear. He claws frantically at the sides before he hears a click. He looks up and sees the man in the checkered suit; only he's nothing but a skeleton.

The man lights a cigarette and makes on bony hand into a pistol shape.

"Truth is… Game was rigged from the start," 

The skeletal figure pulls the trigger of his imaginary gun and the Courier wakes in with a start.

The floating robot is the first thing he notices. It has turned from its guarding of the jail cell door toward the young man sitting on the bed. Courier waves it off and it turns back resuming its vigilance. The Courier cracks his neck as he stands. The nightmare has shaken him visibly, but he shoves it to the back of his mind. He stopped for a bit of sleep at the highway station before going to the Mojave Outpost on his way to Nipton. The station was occupied by a small group of criminals calling themselves the "Jackals". Normally, he would've avoided half a dozen armed and armored thugs, but the robot had other plans.

Once the first shot rang out from the Jackals, the Eyebot turned and began strafing them with highly accurate laser fire from a weapon mounted right on its underside. In less than a minute after the shooting started it was over. Even the two additional thugs that burst out of the station itself were gunned down before they could react.

It was then that the Courier decided to keep ED-E around. He definitely had proved his worth. The nice metal armor one of the thugs wore was unfortunately melted, but not their weapons. Not like the armor mattered anyway. Johnson Nash had been kind enough to let the Courier have Sheriff McBain's old leather duster after he had replaced the late sheriff with Primm's premiere robot cowboy. Didn't take much to do it either, just poke a bit here, and slip in a few scrap electronics there.

The thugs had also provided the Courier with a nice .357 revolver they left on top of an old loading bench along with a few boxes of assorted ammunition.

Things were shaping in his favor.

Hell, he even had some Nuka-Cola and leftover Gecko he hunted right behind the station.

"Today's looking up Eddy," he said to the floating eyeball.

The machine whirred and clicked at him. It was almost like he was agreeing, but he was a robot. A, thankfully, non-talking robot with a powerful laser attached to him.

As the Courier pulled the duster on and holstered his pistols he checked the cabinets and desks once more before throwing on the satchel bag and leaving for the outpost with Eddy.

Feeling a bit cheerful he even clicked his Pip boy's radio to Radio New Vegas and overheard an interesting broadcast about Goodsprings.

"Hear that Eddy? I helped form that militia!" he beamed at the robot.

Again, the robot whirred and beeped at him.

He shot the machine a look.

"I'm not lying about it. I'll tell you the story sometime,"

With that he laughed to himself for talking to the robot like a person as he continued down the highway.


	7. Squashin' Bugs & Meeting People

It was the same every fucking day.

Get up, take a piss, flip off a few NCR troopers, bitch at Knight and Jackson, and drown in alcohol until they kicked her out.

This had been routine for a while now.

She was stuck here even though her caravan was dead. Some kind of paperwork shit those pussy officials loved so much they probably came to the thought of it. Every day she bitched at Major Knight and that wimp Jackson as to why they couldn't just let her leave.

Today, surprisingly, they had a better than usual answer.

Legion raid parties were increasing and the brass didn't want caravans moving without heavy security. She accepted this, and sauntered out of the administrative building to the barracks with the intent to drink herself to the point of blacking out again.

She sat there nuzzling a shot glass and cursing the blandness of the place until someone new came in. He was a young man, probably early twenties, wearing a duster over a leather vest and pants. He was tall, about six two, with a brown fade paired with a recently shaved face. The rolled up sleeves on the duster showed that he had muscle definition on his arms, and his face wasn't half bad either. Not too much of a pronounced chin, and he was still soft looking in a way.

As she eyed him across the bar he sat down and began chatting up the bartender. Asking simple shit like how things were going, and if there was any work available. Lacey told him to go check with Jackson and Ghost outside, and she also cocked her head toward the drinking woman.

"Bitch," she said under her breath as she slugged back the rest of the whiskey.

Courier looked over toward the redhead sitting at the bar.

"She's been stuck here for a while. Not sure why, she doesn't say much. Maybe you can squeeze a few words out of her," the bartender said to him.

Honestly, with the look she was giving them both, Courier wanted nothing other than to walk the fuck on outta there, but she might know about Benny since she was a caravaneer. He ordered a shot of whisky and a Sunset Sarsaparilla and sat next to the woman. An awkward silence hung for a few seconds before she turned and looked at him.

"Looking for trouble?"

"Uh… Not exactly. Information is what I'm looking for,"

"Really? Then why talk to me?"

"Heard you were a caravaneer, maybe you'd know something I needed to know. I got you another whisky Miss…?"

"Cass,"

"And that's short for Cassandra?"

"It's short for Cass. What do you wanna know?"

"You ever been to the Strip?"

"Yea,"

"You know a guy named Benny? Wears a checkered suit?"

"Don't know the name, but the guys at the Tops Casino wear suits like that,"

"The Tops?"

"Yea… Uh… Call themselves the Chairmen,"

"Nice, thanks for the information. Have another on me Miss Cass,"

"It's just Cass dumbass, and before you go,"

"Yeah?"

"Check with the Crimson Caravan if you're hard up for work. They're always hiring good runners,"

"I may just Cass. Have a good day,"

With that he gave her a quick smile and strode out of the barracks.

"Strange guy," Cass muttered to herself.

As he exited the barracks and walked to the administration building Eddy silently hovered near the gates, as the soldiers there politely asked that he not be allowed inside for "Security reasons". The Courier had agreed and set the robot on standby until his business was concluded.

He stepped into the administration building and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a beret and armor.

"Citizen, civilian…?"

"Courier,"

"Just needed that for the log book, Major Knight at your service how can I help you today?"

"Um, I'm looking for a Ranger Jackson?"

"Down the hallway to your left, first door on your left,"

"Thanks,"

Knight simply waved him off as he kept scribbling in his log book. Courier knocked on Jackson's door before opening it. He was slightly startled to see the man cleaning a repeater on an empty desk. Upon the Courier's entrance however, he stopped and shook his hand.

"Got a new visitor in the old Brahmin pen, what can I do for you?"

"Heard you were looking for help,"

"Yea, I need someone to clear out some damn ants from the collapsed intersection down the hill. If you do it there'll be pay and maybe some supplies,"

"Maybe?"

"Requisition forms get lost all the time. You in or out boy?"

"In, I'll be back in a jiffy,"

Jackson laughed and patted the Courier's back as he left. Finally someone willing to get their hands dirty, even if he had to dangle a carrot in front of him first.

Eddy whirred as he followed the Courier down the hill. He was on "Passive" mode and wouldn't open fire until fired upon, or the Courier opened fire first. As the pair closed in on the intersection Courier got a good look at what they were up against.

Giant ants.

He hated bugs, not just ants; all insects shared his wrath equally.

This job was cakewalk. The ants didn't even get up the road before they were all dead by Eddy's laser. The Courier laughed a little as they returned to the outpost. He bet Jackson didn't expect him back so soon, and wondered what he was gonna get from him. He left Eddy at the gates again and waved to Knight was he strode into Jackson's office to find the man drinking a sarsaparilla.

"Didn't expect you back so soon,"

"Well, I really hate bugs,"

Jackson chuckled and tossed Courier a small bag of caps as he got up. He casually shut his office door and opened a cabinet on the wall.

"Now, I shouldn't be doing this, but you did a damn fast job, and you definitely deserve the reward,"

He pulled a rifle out of the cabinet along with a handful of magazines and two full lunchboxes. He shooed the younger man out and wished him good luck wherever he was going. The Courier slipped the extra magazines into his satchel, and gripped the rifle by the handle on the top as he left the building.

His next target was Ranger Ghost on top of the barracks. He quietly strode up the planks to find the rather gaunt woman smoking while looking through a pair of binoculars.

"The hell you want?"

"Someone said you had work,"

"Yeah, I need someone to go to Nipton and tell me just what the fuck is going on there,"

"What do you mean what's going on?"

"See for yourself kid,"

She handed him the binoculars and pointed down the hill. Courier looked down the eyepieces, and managed to make out very little of Nipton. He could see all the buildings, and a great plume of black smoke rising from the center of town.

"Huh, looks like something's on fire down there,"

"I'm thinking Powder Gangers hit the place. Maybe lit something up to scare the mayor into lettin' 'em stay free of charge,"

"What do I do if it is Powder Gangers?"

"Shoot 'em. All of them,"

"I hope this pays well,"

"If you live, sure,"

Ghost turned back to her watching as the Courier left. Powder Gangers were no real threat, but a large group could be a problem. Good thing he had Eddy, and this nice new rifle.

Plus, getting paid was always nice.


	8. Vae Victus

The rifle fired one bullet per pull of the trigger.

The magazine held twenty rounds.

Courier squeezed the trigger at a steady beat. One you could tap your foot to and follow along. His first trio of shots was horribly off, impacting the cement wall of the rest stop, instead of the thug with the pistol. Thankfully however, the shots chipped the concrete, and sent shards of rock at the man causing his aim to be off. His shots went wild and hit the shell of the car Courier was ducked behind.

The man wasn't alone but, thankfully, his cohorts weren't carrying any guns. They hid around the wall shouting taunts and cursing loudly. Another trio of shots from the Courier, better placed this time, hit the man. One bounced off his metal chest plate, another hit the soft spot on his bicep, and the last managed to blow off his left ear. The impact force of the rounds caused him to bounce back into the wall, and fall down into the open. Courier took this advantage, putting a round through his Mohawk, and into his skull.

As the armored man fell, one of the others rushed out to pick up his pistol, but a quick double tap from the Courier hit him square in the chest and punctured his heart. The other two, seeing nothing good coming out of this, made a break for it. They began running into the ruins of a race track, but ran into a group of giant ants. The Courier watched as they were quickly overwhelmed and killed by the insects, and then carried off to their ant mound to be devoured.

The Courier turned back toward the road, and continued to walk up it before a scream stopped him.

Up the road a woman with a very odd hairstyle was chasing a young man with a lead pipe. He ran down the highway, looking back at her and pleading her to stop, but a crack in the pavement caused him to land flat on his face. The Courier considered letting the scene play out, but he really didn't want to shoot the winner if they decided to take him on.

"Hey!" he shouted at the woman.

She stopped in her tracks and stared the Courier down, her pipe still raised in her hand. Courier leveled the rifle at her, letting her know he meant business.

"Walk away," he stated "Just leave him alone,"

She didn't respond, instead she started screaming at him, and charged.

Her body made little noise as it slumped to the ground, smoke wisping out of the hole in her head. The young man got up and dusted himself off.

"Thanks mister, I didn't know she was that crazy,"

"Well, you're just lucky I was here. What happened?"

"I don't know man. We met a few days ago, and I was hoping to y'know, but she seemed more interested in my lucky necklace,"

The man pulled a string of blue bottle caps out from under his shirt. Courier had seen these before and even had a few in his satchel.

"Doesn't sound like a very good lucky necklace,"

"I know, but at least you were here right?"

"True. Be careful from now own, and don't go flashing that necklace around okay?"

"Will do mister, see you around!"

The man took off running towards the Mojave Outpost, and Courier ran over the woman's body for caps. Eddy hovered around as the Courier closed her eyes before continuing. He carried the rifle by the grip as he got closer to Nipton, pointing the muzzle down toward the ground reflexively. He could already smell rubber burning, and something else along with it. Once he crested the hill into town he found out what it was.

Meat…

At the entrance to the town two banners hung on posts, displaying a gold bull on a red background. The image felt familiar to the Courier and simultaneously horrifying. He coughed a little, his head feeling woozy, as he walked past the banners. Suddenly, a man wearing a Powder Ganger's outfit came up to him cheering. He rattled off some insanity about winning something; the Courier didn't pay much attention. His head was clouded, and he couldn't keep a straight pace.

As he came around a store he got a full view of hell.

On each side of the main road were rows of crucifixes, all of them occupied. His coughing increased, his head started aching, and his legs felt like jelly. All he wanted to do was to walk the opposite direction, but he felt obligated to continue toward the figures at the end of the road. There were five of them, all clad in red armor, wielding machetes made from scrap metal.

He fell against a crucifix as he attempted to walk. He could hear the screaming again, like it was right in his ear, and the woman was sitting there at the end of the road where the men were. He blinked and her image began to flicker, rapidly appearing and disappearing, showing the men, and then her again. The smell became too much and he leaned over to vomit on the ground, dropping the rifle in the process. Just a few more steps, he thought to himself, a few more steps and it's be over.

The armored men showed disdain toward him. They didn't respect him, and Courier did not care. He began to regain his composure slightly, and he stood up straight. The man in the center wore a headdress of some sort. Like a wolf's head and a blindfold made out of leather. He was the one to address the Courier, and weave to him the fate of Nipton.

A town of whores, that's what he called it, and they were justly punished in his mind.

He ended his tale with a challenge.

Only he could punish them.

Or else he would be as guilty as they were.

They were savages, wielding hand weapons.

He could take them.

His hand flew to his pistol, pulling it free and snapping off two shots before they reacted. His shots hit one of the men in his throat, sending him to the ground gargling on his own blood. The next man got a few feet further than the first, swiping the razor sharp metal blade at the Courier, his swing was off and the Courier sent him flying with a kick in his side. The other two were closing fast, but Eddy finally figured out there were hostiles, and sent a laser beam into the head of one, scaring the other in the process. Courier took the advantage, placing a bullet into the man's head. The man who was down returned with a surprise swing at Courier's right arm, drawing a jagged line of blood, and eliciting a scream from the man. Courier tucked his arm in and turned toward the man, sending a knee into his stomach as he did so. As the man doubled over Courier pulled his knife out with his free hand and drove it into the man's neck.

All that was left was the wolf-head man.

He stood calmly, waiting for the bullet that would end his life, but it didn't come.

Instead, a question came.

"Who are you?"

The question took him by surprise. Who didn't know of Caesar's mighty Legion? Was this man ignorant?

"We are loyal servant of Caesar. The conqueror of 88 tribes,"

Caesar… The name was oh so familiar.

Once the name had been said things came back to him, only a few, but enough to know he did not like these men.

"You report to him yourself?"

The man stood stoically, as if he knew the answer would damn him.

"Yes, I report to Caesar himself,"

Courier winced in pain, he wanted to kill this man, send his soul to a dark place where he would join his victims, but he wanted these bastards to know people could fight back.

"Go back to him… Tell him we won't be taken easily,"

The man simply nodded and walked away.

Courier turned toward the rows of crosses and sighed.

Things were going to get a lot worse now.


	9. Courier's Got a Brand New Bag

He burned the bodies.

Not just the residents of Nipton, but the Legionaries and a trio of NCR troopers in a hotel.

Now his only goal was to black out. He had come upon a large bottle of scotch in the town hall, and was stumbling through town taking swigs of the clear liquor. It was surprisingly smooth, maybe because he'd been taking heavy tugs of it, and with each gulp he cared a little bit less. He was thankful for that, to be unable to care, but the familiarity of dragging about dead bodies scared him.

Who was he?

The question still burned in his mind. It was obvious some of his memories were trying to come back. The woman with the bullet wound mainly. Was she a lover, a friend, or a family member? He took another big swig while saying "Fuck it" in his head. His stupor became apparent as he lost his balance and slammed into the wall of a building. He didn't get up; instead, he slumped down and nursed the bottle even more. Eventually, he drained the container of its contents and fell asleep.

His dreams weren't of fire and screams, but of a town. It was empty, like Nipton now, and the wind made no noise. He walked along the streets, looking into windows and open doors, but finding nothing except half-eaten meals, and other tossed about items. He continued through the streets until a figure approached him. A boy not older the eight, with a shock of brown hair, and a dirty face. He made no attempt to talk, but beckoned Courier to follow him on a wild run through the streets. The run was exhilarating and made him smile. The run ended at a ditch outside of town where a "clubhouse" of sorts was cobbled together out of old metal, and within its walls was a collection of familiar items.

Courier looked at them with the same sense of familiarity he got from holding a pistol. There was a severed finger of a Gecko on a necklace, a pile of shell casings, a leather-bound journal, and a worn picture of a naked woman. Courier woke as he went to touch them, and upon waking, vomited heavily on the dusty ground. His binge had its repercussions on him. His headache persisted as he began sifting through the piles of salvage he carried to the Nipton "hotel" in town.

Amongst the clothing and useless items he picked a few winners. First was one of the blades the Legionnaire's used. He had taken the sharpest of the four two and a half-foot long blades. With it came the tanned Gecko hide scabbard and belt. He also took one of the NCR trooper's metal chest plate. It was made to cover the chest and the back evenly, and straps on the sides loosened or tightened to fit the wearer. Courier made a few modifications to it however, mainly just scratching off the NCR emblem, but he also blackened the metal on the still-burning funeral pyre.

His final "winner" was a very powerful weapon he'd found in a booby-trapped house. It fired bulky 40mm grenades, which he only found six of, but was the most dangerous he had come upon so far. He stripped a belt from some poor sap's pants to make a carrying strap for it, and it currently bounced off his back as he made his way back to the Mojave Outpost with ED-E buzzing alongside him.

"Fuck, Legion out this far?"

"Yea, they fucked Nipton all to hell,"

"Nipton was a hellhole to begin with, but even they didn't deserve that,"

"I'm sorry if you had friends there or something,"

"No, I didn't. Thanks for checking it out for me. Mind the plank on your way down,"

With that his conversation with Ghost ended. As he began his trip back to Nipton the Courier looked at his Pip-boy's map. After Nipton it was Novac, and hopefully then he'd find someone who knew just where Benny was.

The longer he walked this road the stronger he got. That was his advantage, and would be his savior once he came face-to-face with Benny.


	10. Bartering for More Than Information

Novac wasn't exactly a town, more a small bundle of houses around a large motel, and a large Tyrannosaurus Rex statue.

Right now that statue was the greatest thing Courier had ever seen.

The road from Nipton to Novac had been hectic. He'd been ambushed not once, but three separate occasions. Twice by thugs and once by a Legion patrol, though technically he attacked them, and they weren't aggressive.

He was just pissed from the ambushes and wanted to take it out on someone.

Fortunately however, he recovered a considerable amount of swag from the corpses of the Legionnaires, and the thugs. Most was stuff he had no ammunition for, a few 10mm pistols, though he appreciated that a few carried .357 and 5.56 rounds on them because he was getting low. He was also grateful for their half-cooked dinner he helped himself to.

He immediately rented a room when he reached the motel from a very nice older woman named Jennie-May. He resigned himself immediately to the bed due to the fact he skipped sleep to reach Novac faster.

When he woke up the next day his first objective was to hit up the local gift shop to see what caps he could make off the loot, and round up some more info about his would-be assassin's whereabouts. The shop was inside the massive statue, and Cliff Briscoe was not happy to see him.

"Aw shit, Jennie-May sent you didn't she?"

"Why do you think that?"

"She always tells renters to visit me and mention her for a discount. Old bag's tryin' to drain me dry of caps,"

"Do you get many visitors here Mr. Briscoe?"

"Not lately, mostly traders on their way to the Strip. It's just Cliff by the way,"

After the pleasantries were exchanged an intense bartering session began.

The Courier was hard-headed, and Briscoe the same. Neither wanted to give the other a single cap more than they had too.

The bartering began roughly about three in the afternoon, but lasted until the guards switched posts.

As Manny walked out rubbing his temple at an attempt to silence his headache from the strangers arguing, the man who walked in immediately wanted to walk out as he heard them going at it.

He stopped Manny at the door.

"How long have they been at it?"

"Five hours man, five fuckin' hours. Ol' Cliff's gonna have a stroke from the way he sounds,"

"Shit, hope he fucking leaves soon, or else I'll drive his ass out,"

Manny chuckled as he left, and the man walked upstairs. His prayers would soon be answered when he heard Cliff loudly sigh.

"Alright kid, three boxes of ammo and a week's rations just stop arguing please,"

The Courier beamed as he collected his winning in the form of 5.56mm bullets, and delicious packed lunches. He turned toward the door, and was nearly out, before he remembered what else he was there for.

"Oh, have you seen a guy with a checkered suit lately?"

"Yeah… He was with some Khans. Blew through here a couple days ago. Might want to talk to Manny Vargas, they went by his place before leaving. Hey, you know anything about radios?"

"Yeah, I know a few things, why?"

"I need someone to look at this old jukebox Jennie-May has. Damn thing don't play right at all. Got a good reward in it if you can fix it,"

"Sure, she still awake?"

"She's probably at her house, but the office ain't locked. I'll go with you to make sure it gets fixed right,"

The Courier nodded and the men left the shop to the office. Once there the younger man went straight to work, pulling the jukebox out and removing the back panel. As he rooted around in the back, pulling out various parts, Cliff watched him with a small grin. He hadn't seen someone with a lick of machinery sense in a long time, and honestly didn't expect the boy to have the skill he showed. The Courier sat back on his butt and wiped his forehead.

"I need two conductors, a sensor module, and duct tape. Lots of duct tape,"

Cliff said alright and went back to his shop to grab the stuff. Once he returned he watched the boy replace the multitude of components he'd torn out with the pieces he requested. Once he replaced the panel, and pushed the jukebox back he was saddened by the fact that it didn't even turn on.

"Well fuck me. I thought that's do the trick,"

"Ah, it's ok kid. Jennie will just have to find someone else,"

"Piece of Pre-war shit!" Courier exclaimed as he kicked the side of the jukebox.

Surprisingly, after being kicked the machine turned back on and began blaring Mojave Radio with a stronger signal than ever.

As soon as it did Cliff began guffawing so hard he had to lean on the desk by the door. He led the Courier back to the shop where he excused himself to the small closet to retrieve the reward. He said he could go talk to the night sniper if he wanted to risk it. The Courier shrugged and walked up the stairs, and opened the door.

He was greeted by a cold stare behind a pair of sunglasses.

"The fuck do you want?"

"Uh, well, I'm new here and-"

"Yeah, you are new here. People wouldn't know you from anyone else passing through,"

"Uhh… Yeah?"

"Listen can you do me a favor?"

"Sure?"

"My wife, she was sold to Legion slavers by someone from here. Find out who did it and walk them out in front of the statue. Take my beret and wear it to signal me,"

Their conversation stopped there, and Courier went back to Cliff with the red beret clutched in one hand. Cliff had a dusty box sitting on the desk, and was slipping a key into the padlock on it.

"Just a second. Tryin' to find which of these damn keys unlocks it. Aha!"

He pulled the lock off, and opened the box. Inside was a pistol, only it looked very advanced. The polished wood handle contrasted with the sleek black barrel and silver trigger guard.

"Well, there you go son. I've been keeping it around for a long time trying to sell it, but ain't nobody bought it, or wanted to see it for years. I don't see a problem in giving it to you. You could probably use it,"

"Thank you Cliff, it's a very pretty pistol,"

"I always called it That Gun. It fires 5.56 or any chambered for that size. It's an odd weapon, haven't seen any others like it yet,"

Courier held the pistol up, looking down the sight. It wasn't heavy, maybe five or six pounds, but its reloading mechanism made him grin. When you pressed a small button on the left side, above the trigger, the cylinder swung out on its crane for reloading, and swung back after being pressed again. The button had a green light for loaded, and a red one for empty. A truly peculiar weapon, but it was very nice. Cliff pulled a leather holster for it out of the box and handed it the Courier. He had to strap it on over his breastplate, to where the pistol sat snug and comfortable under his left armpit.

He thanked Cliff, and returned to his room. Intending to sleep a little before talking to Manny, and the other residents about Craig's wife in the morning.


	11. A Courier Who's a Detective and Spotter?

"So she didn't like Novac?"

"No, I suppose she didn't. Always wore a sour face, and didn't talk much to anybody sweetie,"

"Thanks Miss May,"

"No problem honey, you plan on staying here for a while longer?"

"Yeah, I might just for a few more days,"

"Well, feel free to stay as long as you want. Ain't nobody rented that room in a long time,"

"Thank you Miss May,"

Courier left the office and greeted the hot Mojave sun. He'd spoken to Jennie May and Cliff about Boone's wife, but neither had anything to really tell him except that she didn't seem to like living in Novac. He looked around for another person to interrogate, and noticed an old man walking around the gas station.

"Better than talking to pavement I suppose" Courier muttered to himself.

Courier approached the man slowly, as he looked a little scraggly with his mane of gray hair that matched his long beard.

"Uh, hi, names Courier. I was hoping to ask you something,"

The old man's head snapped in Courier's direction.

"Careful now boy, Ol' Sticky here's feelin' mighty ornery, so you best just stay back a few paces,"

He emphasized his point with a jabbing motion made by his empty hand.

"Ok, I was just wondering if you knew anything about a woman disappearing from town. Her name was Carla,"

The old man scratched his beard about where his chin would be, looking up into the sun as he did so.

"I don't know nothin' about no woman goin' missin', but they's been some shady characters goin' into the office at night. Probably commie pinkos comin' for my antidote, but they ain't gettin' it. You ain't neither so don't ask,"

"Ok… Thanks for the help I guess?"

The old man mumbled something and began rummaging about in a garbage can. The Courier took this opportunity to leave, and think about what the old man said.

Shady characters going into the office at night?

Sounded like someone was making deals, and Courier knew exactly what to do. He needed to get into the office without Jennie-May being there, and crack that safe behind the desk. He had the know how to pick the lock, but had absolutely no idea how to get Jennie out of there.

That was until he saw Jennie May walk out of the office and up to the gift shop.

Courier smacked himself once in the head, and slipped into the office. Immediately he made for the safe, and slid a bobby-pin into the lock. He gently turned it over with his screwdriver until it successfully clicked into place, and he could pull it open. Inside he found a few stacks of NCR money, and random items, but what he was really interested in was a piece of paper neatly folded under a bag of coins.

He pulled it out and opened it up. It was a bill of sale for Carla, and her unborn child.

Courier immediately felt sick to his stomach.

This old woman had sold off a pregnant woman for a small pittance.

She deserved what Boone was going to do.

Courier slipped the paper into his pocket, and shut the safe back up before leaving for his room. There he planned to piss away a few hours waiting for Boone's shift to start.

Once night fell the Courier moved into action.

He caught Jennie-May on her way to her house, and informed her that something was in front of the statue she ought to see. She complied and began following Courier towards the entrance to town. Once they got close the place he slipped on the beret Boone gave him and made the last few steps.

Pieces of her brain hit him when the bullet impacted, and a spray of blood painted the pavement crimson.

"Good riddance you sick twisted bitch," Courier said quietly.

"How do you know it was her?" Boone asked.

"Found a receipt,"

He handed Boone the paper, and Boone chuckled as he read it.

"Always like Legion to keep records,"

"What are you going to do now?"

"Wander probably, isn't really anything keeping me here anymore,"

Courier grunted in agreement as he kneaded his chin with one hand.

"You know… You could always join me,"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know, thrill of adventure?"

"I think I'll pass,"

"We'll probably meet a lot of Legion on the way, and besides, a sniper always needs a good spotter,"

Boone looked at him, his gaze covered by the sunglass he wore.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. Where we going first?"

"To bed, but tomorrow we go information hunting,"

Boone huffed and picked up his rifle. He had a few lingering feeling about leaving, but this kid seemed ok to travel with. Besides, not like he couldn't handle himself if things went south.


	12. Explosions and CQC

A few ghouls his ass.

He was going to knock Manny Vargas the fuck out when he got back to Novac.

Manny had the information he was looking for, but wasn't going to let it go easy. Instead, he offered a deal, the Courier cleared out the ghouls from the nearby rocket facility, and Manny would point him in the right direction.

Manny did not note that the ghouls were feral, or that there were a fuckton of them.

Courier pulled his blade out from between the dead ghoul's ribs, and wiped it off on the scraggly t-shirt it still wore. Boone was behind him quietly standing next to ED-E. Boone had given ED-E a run for the best marksman championship, but neither was fast enough to catch one that popped out from behind a trio of boulders. Thankfully Courier was able to drive his stolen gladius' sharpened point into it's heart.

"Is that all of them Boone?"

The man brought his scope up to his eye and panned over the buildings courtyard.

"Seems to be,"

"Can't give me a more definite answer?"

Boone huffed at that remark. The boy was being a smartass, and Boone felt almost obligated to slap it out of him. He panned over the stairwell into the building and noticed that there were two more wandering near the main doors.

"Two more near the entrance. Can't get a good shot,"

Courier shrugged and looked over toward the door, shielding his eyes from the sun with a flat palm.

"How far do you think that is? "

"Over fifty yards, why?"

Courier sighed as he put down his service rifle, and pulled the grenade launcher off his back. He began to casually stroll into the courtyard while sliding one of the heavy grenades into place in the launcher's breech. Boone watched as he got to the bottom of the stairs, and braced himself before firing the weapon at the ghouls. His round missed them, but impacted on an overhang, sending metal death into the feral sub humans.

"It's all clear now! C'mon down!"

Boone slung his rifle over his shoulder, and picked up the Courier's from the ground. This boy was slightly off, but had to have been trained. He took down that ghoul a little too well, and handled the launcher proficiently enough that a drill sergeant wouldn't make him do push-ups. He and the boy hadn't talked much since the other day when he convinced Boone to join him. Hell, he didn't even know the boy's name.

He said to call him Courier.

Didn't bother Boone much, he'd heard worst names. He handed Courier his rifle back, but Courier didn't take it. Instead he drew his blade and pulled a fancy revolver from under his duster.

"My guess is that there are a lot more of those bastards inside, and your scope isn't gonna be much use in there. Keep the rifle for now,"

Boone grunted in approval, he had used one of the standard issue rifles before, but it still felt odd in his hands.

Couriers nodded toward Boone, and kicked open the wooden door. Immediately a trio of ghouls came rushing toward them. Courier sprang forward with a shoulder-butt into one, sending it skidding and howling across the floor, while Boone put a double-tap into another's head. ED-E managed a laser burst into the other, vaporizing its bare flesh, while Courier dispatched the one on the floor with a single shot from the pistol. The pistol had a nice kick to it the Courier thought as turned to check the doorways.

"You there, smoothskin!"

The intercom belched out a raspy voice drizzled with static interference. Both Boone and the Courier jumped at its sudden activation. Courier looked at Boone and shrugged as he stepped up and clicked the speak button.

"Uh, yes, who am I speaking to?"

"Don't worry about that, you need to get to me. We're in the back of the building in the labs,"

"And where would those be?"

"Just find the 'Employee's only' signs jackass,"

With that last retort the intercom clicked off.

"This sounds like a trap,"

Boone's words rang clear through Courier's head.

"Yeah, but regardless we have to get whoever is here the fuck on out. Should it be a trap then I got a surprise for them,"

Accenting his point were the two fragmentation grenades, and a bundle of dynamite in his satchel. Boone whistled as he looked over the ordnance.

"You sure you know what you're doing with those kid?"

The Courier shrugged as he closed the satchel.

"I suppose,"

Boone scratched his stubble with one hand as the trio continued to clear out the offices. The ghouls come in smaller numbers now, and were easier to put down with minimal effort. As they made their way through the Courier would run through desks, file cabinets, and janitor's closets gathering up what little swag was hiding around. They eventually made it back to an open "industrial" area containing the buildings generators, and a very startling sight.

A huge blue-skinned corpse.

Boone crouched next to it, checking to see how it died, while the Courier simply stared at it.

"What the hell is it Boone?"

Boone looked up at him flabbergasted.

"Have you never seen a Super Mutant before?"

Courier shook his head no before ushering Boone to move on.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"So, these 'demons' are Super Mutants then?"

Boone was surprised that the kid didn't know what Super Mutants were, but then again he was young so he probably never saw one before today.

"Yeah, they're called Nightkin. They use Stealth-boys to sneak up on caravans or settlements and ambush them,"

"How many do you think are down in the basement?"

"My guess is not many. They're only in big numbers when in a more permanent settlement,"

Courier let out a sigh of relief, these things were huge, and scared him honestly. Boone had informed him that 5.56 probably wouldn't dent the brute's muscles, but his .308 would, and the Courier's blade would in a pinch. Courier didn't argue with that, and drew the blade as they descended into the basement depths. ED-E led the group, broadcasting an infrared beam that the Courier guessed was equivalent to a flashlight. They followed the little robot as he turned a corner and stopped dead, the beam illuminating a large form that materialized into being.

It was a particularly large Nightkin with a huge sword made out of the bumper of a car. Surprisingly, he made no move to kill the three in front of him; instead he spoke, his bass heavy voice rumbling the walls.

"Who are you strangers?"

Courier and Boone both stood for a second; unable to think of anything except how dead they would be if the giant decided to swing that sword. Thankfully, the Courier recovered his wits quickly.

"We were asked by Jason Bright to see if you guys could leave peacefully,"

The giant swayed back and forth for a second, pondering what the little man had said to him.

"Jaysun Brite, the green man?"

"Yes, the green man,"

The giant began to tell them about how his people came for the Stealth-boy shipment, but how a ghoul was guarding it with traps and explosives. The giant offered to leave peacefully should the Courier get rid of the man, so the Nightkin could claim the shipment. Courier hastily agreed and walked down the hallway to the door that the giant opened for him.

"Hold it right there you giant pieces of-… Oh, wait, you're human,"

Courier held his hands up and stepped through the doorway to where he could get a good look at the ghoul.

"Yes, and I was hoping that you would come down without any resistance,"

"The hell with that, those mutants will kill me, and besides they have a girl hostage,"

The Courier listened impatiently as the ghoul, named Harland, told him about a follower he fancied that was held up in a cage by the Nightkin.

'I really don't have time for this shit,' thought the Courier as he lied to Harland about going to look for the girl.

Instead, he drew That Gun and sent a trio of shots into Harland's body, killing him near instantly, and sending him tumbling over some railing straight down onto a mine. The mine promptly sending pieces of him everywhere, and deadened Courier's hearing for a second. Upon returning to the mutants leader Boone asked him what the explosion was.

"The ghouls slipped and fell onto a mine,"

Boone chuckled slightly as the mutant's leader praised Courier and promised to be out of the basement before the day was over. Courier thanked the giant and returned upstairs with Boone and ED-E to Jason, who immediately praised him again, and sent him to Chris Haversam. Chris was the person who contacted them initially through the intercom, and was the only human in a nest of ghouls. Chris gave them a shopping list of items to bring back to them so they could complete their "Great Journey" and get the hell out of Courier's hair.

He was getting really tired of this whole "I'll tell you what you want if you do this first" bullshit.


	13. Story by the Campfire

Boone watched as the younger man systematically disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled the pistol. They had left the facility over an hour ago, but opted to camp out near the gate checkpoint due to it being nighttime already. So, for the last half-hour, Boone had contended himself with a can of Pork 'n Beans whilst observing the Courier's routine. He had cleaned all three of his pistols already, and was now dragging a whetstone across the blade of a Legion sword.

"Where did you get that by the way?" Boone asked him.

"Found it on the bodies of some Legionnaires. They didn't need it anymore,"

Boone simply nodded. He was inclined to agree with the story if the boy didn't know exactly how to sharpen the metal blade, or if Boone hadn't seen him wield it against the feral ghouls so well.

The Courier started stripping down the service rifle next.

"Where did you learn all of this?" Boone asked flatly.

The Courier stopped in his tracks and sighed, rubbing one hand through his brown hair.

"To be honest… I don't know,"

Boone's eyes went wide.

"You don't know?"

It was at this point that the Courier informed him of everything that had happened since he woke up in Doc Mitchell's office, and after his short tale had ended Boone sat speechless.

"So… You said to call you Courier because you didn't know your real name, not because you didn't want to become too attached?"

Courier nodded.

"And all this weapons maintenance, not to mention how you seem to handle yourself in a fight, was all mostly reflex?"

Courier nodded again as he resumed stripping the rifle.

"It all seems natural. I remember nothing of training, but I know where the firing pin goes, or when to thrust the blade of the gladius,"

Boone cocked an eyebrow. "Gladius?"

Courier looked at him dumbfounded as he held up the Legion weapon.

"That's what this is. Don't ask me how I know,"

Boone set the empty can of beans down.

"If you had been kind enough to inform me of all this I probably wouldn't have joined you to be honest,"

Courier slid the bolt back into the rifle.

"Hence why I didn't mention it,"

Boone chuckled for a second. He looked up at the sky, watching the white stars.

This is gonna be a little wilder than I expected Carla, he thought to himself as he laid down to get a little sleep.


	14. Update!

Hi, this is your author here, herp-a-derp as if that isn't obvious. 

I have been on a big WoW binge lately due to Raid change-ups and progression, but I am getting back to this fic, and starting to crank out chapters again. I'm changing about the writing to be a little longer and mo' descriptive, but I will be skipping over some lesser quests (i.e. random side quests) in the interest of not boring myself. I also will be starting up little "Bonus" chapters I wanna call "Weird Wasteland" chapters. These are gonna be mostly decided by the readers in a "What if?" style.

I.e. What if the Courier was a female, or if the Courier was in the Mass Effect universe?

I would like for you all to submit suggestions in review, and I will try my best to write up a longer chapter containing my Courier with your idea.

Other than that just keep checkin' on me every week, and provide whatever reviews you all want.


	15. Oh Shit They Get That Big?

Boone considered lighting another cigarette as he watched the younger man shamelessly flirt with the older woman.

It was almost sickening.

He had managed to woo her into handing over the first piece they were looking for with no charge, and now he was just aimlessly bullshitting with her for no reason. Boone hadn't stuck around to listen; he wandered away from the old junkyard building to survey the landscape.

And the damn robot followed him.

To be completely honest it freaked him the hell out. It reminded him of something the Brotherhood would have following them into battle. Hell, he'd seen what it could do to a ghoul.

"Got a lead on the fuel,"

The sudden break of silence startled Boone. He thought the Courier was still ten yards away talking to the old woman. He kept his stoutness, and nodded while readying his hunting rifle.

"Where are the canisters?"

"Scarlet said that some wackjob was wandering around Clark Field wearing a biohazard suit, and carrying one of the canisters,"

"Scarlet? Are you on a first name basis with her now?"

"Usually I ask people their names Boone,"

"Despite not knowing your own?"

"Okay, you got a problem? Best lay it out right now,"

"You just spent an hour shamelessly flirting with a lonely old woman Courier. Why would I not be mad about that?"

"She's exactly that Boone. Lonely. Her dogs are her family, and no one has ever spent more than ten minutes talking to that wonderful woman. So fuck me if I tried to brighten her day for once,"

Boone said nothing back to that, instead he clenched his jaw and began walking toward Clark Field. Courier said nothing as well, and followed him over a hill.

As they crested the hill and looked over the field toward the ruins of what looked like a storage warehouse Boone finally spoke.

"Over there, looks like a body,"

He handed Courier his rifle and pointed to a crumbled wall. Courier gingerly brought the weapon up and looked down the scope. Boone was right; there was a body in a torn radiation suit. It was curled in the fetal position around what looked like the canister they needed. Courier scanned left to right, looking around for any possible threat before handing the rifle back to Boone.

"Can you cover me from here without trouble?"

Boone nodded and quickly went prone to the ground. The Courier gave Ed-E the command to stay as he began descending down the hill, pistol in hand. He quickly reached flat ground and began to move as fast and as quiet as he could toward the corpse. Once he reached the crumpled wall he noticed the wounds on the body. They were most likely from a gecko, but a few were much bigger than a normal gecko.

Courier had seen pretty big geckos when he went with Sunny Smiles on a hunting trip, but even those couldn't take chunks that big out of someone. This guy was missing his left leg below the knee, and his intestines were laid out on the ground around him. As he investigated the corpse Courier could hear a slight growling noise behind him.

He immediately slipped into cover against the wall before looking towards the source.

It was a huge gecko with golden tinted skin. With it was a small host of young green geckos.

He was at a quandary, retreat and get Boone or try to take the canister without letting the geckos know he was there.

Fuck it, he thought, I'm getting that canister.

He holstered the pistol and crept over to the body, trying to pull the canister free of the deceased man's death grip.

Then the audio log turned on.

"OH YEAH I'M MR. RADICAL!"

Courier didn't catch the rest of it as he launched himself and the canister in a leap the turned into a furious sprint back toward Boone. The geckos were on his tail unfortunately, the younger green ones being more agile than the massive golden gecko.

He hit the ground heavily, feeling the metal canister smash into his stomach and knock the wind out of him. One of the little beasts had leapt onto his leg and bitten his ankle. He screamed out in pain as he lashed out with his free leg, kicking the gecko repeatedly as he rolled off of the canister. Once on his back he ripped That Gun free of its holster and pumped two rounds into the gecko's skull. He looked past the still twitching corpse at the other three still charging toward him.

Thankfully, however, Boone was on top of the situation.

A .308 round knocked one of the geckos off its feet, and down to the ground with a hole in its side. Another round blew the head off the third gecko, but the last managed to reach Courier. Only to receive a flurry of 5.56mm rounds in its open mouth. As the Courier started to get up he heard a loud roar.

The golden gecko was not happy.

And boy was it fast.

As the Courier barely managed to stand and draw his gladius the golden gecko body slammed him back down. He dropped the pistol as the beasts maw clamped down on the tough leather duster causing Six to cry out in pain, and begin to thrust the sharpened blade into the gecko's side. It's skin managed to reflect most of the stabs, but a few got through, spilling crimson blood onto the Courier's chest. A desperate struggle to be on top broke out between the two of them. They each rolled over and over to get advantage on the other.

As all this was happening Boone was frantically sliding down the hill to get a better shot at the giant golden lizard. He began swearing loudly the closer he got to the bottom of the hill, and was screaming obscenities as he sprinted across the field to the Courier.

As Boone closed in the Courier finally won the positioning contest. He managed to get on top the gecko and wrench his mauled arm free long enough to bring the gladius down into the soft flesh under the jaw. The blade went in down to the hilt, and cause the gecko to release a shrill screech as it clawed wildly trying to pull the intruding object out of its mouth. Courier took the opportunity to retrieve his pistol, and join Boone in a race to see who could empty a clip the fastest.

Neither really won.

After the gecko let out its death rattle the Courier collapsed onto the ground, pumping his undamaged arm into the air.

"We won!"

Boone started swearing up a storm as he helped the younger man up.

"We need to get you back to Novac, you need medical attention,"

"I'll be fine ass, get me the doctor's kit,"

Courier referred to the small bag he kept along with the satchel bag he wore, and the duffle bag Boone carried. Boone quickly retrieved it from on top of the hill and handed it to the Courier, who sat cross legged on the ground. With his one good hand Courier took his duster off, and cleaned the wound with purified water before injecting a stimpack and wrapping it up in bandages. Then he had Boone help him make a sling out of one of the small blankets Courier had purchased from Cliff.

Boone helped Courier onto his feet, and retrieved his gladius from the gecko's corpse for him.

"Are you sure you're gonna be ok?"

"A day or so in this sling and I'll be fine Boone,"

"Do you know anything about medicine Courier?"

"Read a book in a doctor's office once,"

Boone chuckled as he picked up the metal container off the ground. This boy was a little out there, but he knew what he was doing.

Despite not remembering himself, this was still odd to Boone.

They made camp again at the gates of the facility. Courier had felt a little weak, and requested they make camp there as it was close to their destination anyway.

The fire crackled and spat as hot fat drizzled off the steaks Boone had carved from the giant gecko they killed.

"How do you like it? Burnt or raw?"

Courier chuckled "That's a drastic difference. Can I get lightly burnt?"

"Damnit man I'm no chef, I'm a sniper,"

"Shaddup and just cook it"

Boone openly chuckled with Courier.

"Thanks for not letting me get eaten back there. You could've just left me to die if you wanted,"

Boone stared at the cooking meat.

"No, I couldn't have. You've done a lot for me believe it or not,"

"How do you mean?"

"You helped avenge my wife's death, and after that you gave me a reason not to go charging naked into a Legion camp,"

"Well… That's good I s'pose,"

Boone kicked a rock at him.

"You suppose? I'll still kick your ass, crippled or not,"

"I'm kidding Boone, you gotta learn to lighten up sometimes,"

"Yeah yeah, what's our plan after this?"

"Well, we find out where this Benny guy went and I plan on getting some answers from him,"

"Manny said he was with Great Khans didn't he?"

"Yeah, two of them, do you know anything about the Great Khans?"

Boone got extremely quiet, twirling the meat over the fire.

"No, nothing at all,"

Courier almost had the urge to press him for answers, but the silence was deafening.

"Are them steaks done yet?"

"Yeah, here you go,"

Boone handed him one of the two spears, and they ate in relative silence before Courier slipped into a slightly drug-induced sleep.

Boone didn't sleep though. Talking about the Great Khans had brought up distasteful memories.

Memories of smoke and shouting.

Of screams and gunfire and tears.

Stuff he wanted to forget forever.

He got up from the metal chair next to the dwindling fire, and dug around in the duffle bag for his secret stash.

A flask full of strong vodka, that he began sipping from as he watched the fire die.


	16. Cloudy With a Chance of Friendship

The new morning brought the two men pain. Boone had fallen asleep in a metal chair with his feet propped up on a table, and because of that had a horrible stiff back. Likewise, the Courier was forced to sleep on his back with his arm in the sling, making it impossible to roll around like he usually did. The only one who got a good "sleep" was ED-E, but then again he was a robot.

The Courier lazily rose from the ground and checked his arm. There were a few spots on the bandaging where the blood had seeped through, but on closer inspection the stimpack had done its job. It had mended the skin enough to warrant removal of the sling, but he still had to replace the bandages with fresh ones to prevent infection of some of the cuts that were still knitting themselves together.

Boone was already up, having hidden his flask and starting to re-heat the leftover gecko meat.

"Morning," the Courier said as he finished bandaging his arm.

Boone merely nodded as he turned the strips of meat over the dying flame.

"So, once we get this shit done, what's between us and the Strip?"

Boone sat back for a second thinking.

"Well, closest there's the trading post, then Camp McCarran, and then the Crimson Caravan Company,"

"Crimson Caravan? I met some woman at the Mojave Outpost talking about them,"

"Did you get her name?"

"Said her name was Cass, she was… Quite beautiful,"

"Quite beautiful? Care to elaborate?"

"Well, you wouldn't kick her out of bed, but she seems more likely o kick the guy out honestly,"

Boone chuckled as he took the steaks off the fire and offered Courier one.

"I wanted to ask you, do you think there's any way to bring your memories back?"

Courier chewed and slowly swallowed a chunk of meat before answering.

"They're trying, but that bullet knocked out a serious chunk. I may get them all back someday or maybe never,"

"Does it bug you? That you may never remember who you were?"

Courier shrugged.

"I guess it won't matter. If I don't get them back I'll just have to make new ones,"

Boone nodded and finished his steak.

Once they'd packed up camp they headed down to the facility, and descended into the basement where the rockets and Chris were. Courier handed over the pieces and Chris sent him and Boone off upstairs to initiate the sequence.

The initiation was simple; he just stood on the observation platform and pulled a massive switch to open the dome containing the rockets. He and Boone sat back as the old metal down creaked open, and the rockets flew off into the distance. Once the rockets disappeared into the horizon Boone spoke.

"You think they'll make it?"

"What's that?"

"Do you think they'll make it to where they wanna go? The Great Beyond or whatever it is?"

Courier played with his hands for a second.

"I think wherever they go, they will be happy there, and that's the important part,"

Boone nodded as they turned to leave the facility and return to Manny Vargas.

Manny was waiting for them at the gift shop's sniper roost. He gave the Courier a quick handshake once he was informed of the ghouls' departure, and gave a quick wave to Boone.

"You got them all gone right? Even the feral ones?"

"Yes Manny, they are all gone now. Now where did the Khans go?"

"They were heading up past the 188, toward Boulder City,"

"Boulder City?"

Manny told him the story of Boulder City. About how a group of NCR Rangers booby trapped the town in an effort to kill a lot of Legion during the last war, and though they won the city was almost completely destroyed.

Boone and Courier left after that, eager to reach the 188 before nightfall. They walked past the Helios One building, which Boone described as a stupid science experiment, and the dry lake where Courier had to keep Boone from shooting a train of giant ants that were disassembling a radscorpion corpse. The sun was just beginning to set as they reached the trading post.

It was pretty large for a trading post. On the overpass sat a few NCR tents along with a large bus that had been converted to a makeshift "hotel", and across from that was a broken down military truck with a few soldiers leaning on it and chatting. Under the overpass was a small shelter of metal and a group of armed men that Boone told Courier were Gun Runners. On the approach to the overpass was a small diner that was packed with soldiers and travelers.

"I'm gonna go get some .308, you need anything?"

"Not right now, but thanks Boone. I'm gonna go get a seat at the diner over there,"

"Alright I'll meet you when I'm done,"

With that Boone walked off toward the Gun Runners while Courier luckily found a seat at a picnic table. He was there only a few seconds before a woman approached him for his order.

"I'll have whatever is hot thanks."

The woman nodded and walked toward the "kitchen". Courier sat around for a few seconds twiddling his thumbs before he was startled by someone abruptly sitting in front of him.

She was a strange one. Wearing these slightly ugly brown robes and a hood made of the same material, but her face was cute. Her eyes were what caught him though. They seemed happy and bright despite everything bad in the Mojave.

"Y'know you shouldn't ask for what's hot because she'll just send out whatever is going bad tomorrow,"

The unexpected joke caused Courier to burst out laughing.

"That's a good one miss. It's good to see some people have a sense of humor still,"

"Yep, that's me. Names Veronica,"

She offered her left hand to shake, and Courier noticed her other hand encased in metal. He stared at it a little too long and she caught him.

"My eyes are up here you know?"

"Ah, sorry Veronica, but I have no idea what's on your hand,"

She lifted the hand in question up.

"This? This is called a power fist,"

She then explained, in layman's terms, what a power fist does.

"It makes me punch really hard,"

Courier nodded.

"Seems very… Handy?"

Veronica chuckled.

"You could say that. Gee, you haven't even introduced yourself yet. How rude,"

"Oh, uh, just call me Courier,"

"Why just Courier?"

"'Cause that's what I do,"

"Oh I see, well where do you come from?"

"The dead,"

"You look pretty well for that, where are you heading?"

"First Boulder City, and then the Strip probably,"

"Sounds fun, I never get to go anywhere really. I just sit around here all day,"

"That sucks, I'd invite you to come with me, but I'd have to ask my other companion first,"

"Ask me what?"

Boone's appearance startled Courier again, and with him came ED-E. Must've been following him for some reason, Courier thought.

"Boone this is Veronica, Veronica this is Boone,"

"Nice to meetcha Boone,"

Boone nodded and sat down.

"What did you want to ask me?"

"Oh, Veronica is bored with the trading post and wants to come with us,"

"Hm… That would make our group a little big,"

"Yeah, but if we were to stumble on a Legion patrol or raiders it would help our chances in a firefight,"

"True. Your call Courier,"

"Welcome to the gang Veronica, assuming you still want to come,"

Veronica's smile got huge.

"Yes! This is gonna be awesome!"

Boone looked at Courier; even through his sunglasses Courier could tell he was skeptical about her. Courier waved him off and they sat down to eat. Throughout the dinner they chatted, and learned that Veronica could definitely hold her weight. She carried a 10mm pistol with her, along with the power fist. After their dinner the trio spent the night at the bus hotel, which was surprisingly more comfortable than they thought, and Courier got his first good night's sleep since Doc Mitchell's house.

In the morning the trio would head to Boulder City.

With the quiet robot floating behind them of course.


	17. Boulder City Blues

"So, you got shot in the head?"

Courier answered Veronica's question by taking one hand off his rifle and using it to point at the place where his scar would be on his head.

Veronica had been talking almost non-stop since the group had left the 188. The constant conversation had bugged Boone the most, causing him to move a little faster than the other two. Courier seemed to relish the conversation, and happily answered or commented when necessary. The only one left out was ED-E who seemed content lazily bobbing behind them all.

"So why are we going to Boulder City?" Veronica asked.

"Gotta see a man there, well, hopefully he's still there," Courier responded.

As they got closer to the ruins Boone was the first one to see the group of NCR troopers.

"Something's up Courier,"

"What's wrong Boone?"

"NCR troops, looks like they're getting ready for combat,"

Courier jogged up to Boone to see what was going on.

The NCR troops Boone mentioned were forming up near an officer at a barricade at the entrance to the city. Each was combat ready with their rifle and pistol, and stood at attention as the officer gave them orders. As the group got closer the soldiers saluted before passing the barricade.

"What do you think Boone, Legion?"

"Possibly, but this place is still a bad memory for them,"

Courier nodded and the group approached the officer.

"Stop civilians, this is now a combat zone. I'm going to have to ask you to leave,"

The officer accented his statement with his hand held flat out towards them.

"Just wondering what the problem is lieutenant," Boone stated.

"Great Khans have taken two troopers prisoner here, and are requesting a negotiator,"

"Well, do you have one currently?" Courier chipped in.

"No, and we won't be having one. Command has given the order to steamroll over them,"

"What about the troopers?" Veronica asked.

"Casualties of war," Boone responded before the officer could.

Courier sighed loudly.

"Let me go in. I can talk to them at least before you go in guns blazing,"

The officer looked at Courier like he was insane.

"No. That would most likely get you killed along with them. Best to avoid what casualties we can,"

Boone scoffed.

"Listen, I need to talk to these guys anyway. One of them has information I need. I'm volunteering here; it's my decision to go in,"

The officer hesitated for a second before giving in.

"If you die you die then. Not my problem, but only you go in,"

"No problem. Veronica take Boone and ED-E over to the train station and wait for me,"

"Ok, but don't get killed mkay? You can get shot all you want,"

Courier chuckled as he brought the rifle up to his shoulder, and started past the barricade.

As he made his way up the remains of a road he could hear the distant shouting of orders, and scattered reports of gunfire. Hasty shots made from both sides out of nervousness. Opting to avoid the central stalemate Courier climbed the staircase of a shelled out building. He went up to the second floor, and crouched near a window that overlooked the two fronts.

The NCR had made a small firing line out of sandbags and large piles of rubble. The Khans were in held up in a large three story building, which was surprisingly still together, with a handful of them taking cover behind wreckage.

The Courier watched the standoff for a second before going back outside the building. The only thing he could think of that wouldn't end in the troopers, and possibly him, dying was to impersonate a negotiator.

He strode out into the stalemate, dropped the rifle, and raised his hands so that both sides could see him clearly.

"I've been sent here to negotiate for the release of the hostages," he loudly proclaimed.

Seconds later he was escorted by a Khan inside their holdout and came face to face with a man with a Mohawk in a bandanna.

One of the two men who he remembered standing near the grave.

The man, Jessup, looked at him with a horrified expression, realizing exactly who he was.

"What the fuck! You're dead! Benny shot you in the head man!"

"I got better," Courier shrugged.

Jessup chuckled nervously.

"Wh-wh-what are you doing here man?"

"I'm here to negotiate the release of the hostages, and to ask for the whereabouts of the bastard that shot me in the head,"

"Man, ain't no way the NCR's just gonna let us walk outta here,"

"Listen to me, you release those hostages unharmed and I promise you that you'll be going home,"

Jessup mulled things over for a second before shouting at another Khan to release the two prisoners.

"I hope you're right ghost-man, and as for Benny? He'll be at the Tops Casino on the Strip. Give him my regards,"

Jessup tossed Courier a silver lighter, engraved with the letter "B" on it.

Courier left the building to see the hostages being walked past NCR lines. He himself was also allowed to pass, with a few troopers thanking him, only to be stopped by the lieutenant.

"What happened?"

"I negotiated for their release, told them you'd let them go if the hostages were returned unharmed,"

"Damnit boy, you know my orders are to kill them all,"

"Yeah, orders are orders, but you can choose to follow them or not. My suggestion? Let the Khans go, they want to fight just about as much as you do right now,"

The lieutenant sighed heavily before ordering the troops to retreat, much to Courier's happiness.

Courier returned to the train station to find a sullen Boone being chatted up by Veronica.

"So, do you always wear those sunglasses?"

"Yes,"

"Even at night?"

"Especially at night,"

"Why do you wear them all the time?"

"Because I can damnit,"

Thankfully for Boone the arrival of the Courier shifted the hyperactive scribe's attention away from him.

"Oh my goodness you're alive! How did it go?"

Courier chuckled and held up the lighter.

"We're going to the Strip, and we'd best get started,"


	18. The Scribe and the Sniper

The trip from Boulder City into outer Vegas was oddly quiet.

Quiet enough to make Boone more paranoid than usual.

The oddest part of it to him was that both his other companions had remained as silent as he was, and that made a small part of him scared.

As they passed under and overpass the Courier suddenly stopped, his head snapping towards the west, and his rifle coming up to his shoulder. Before Boone or Veronica could ask a question the Courier fired. His rifle barking as he began sending wild shots towards a warehouse. Boone quickly brought his scope up and found that he was firing at a group of raiders that were attacking a trio of NCR troops. Boone gritted his teeth as he sent a round through the lead raider's tricep, causing him to scream in pain and drop his weapon.

The Courier began steadily advancing on the remaining few raiders, with Veronica following with her pistol, and ED-E hovering with them. As he got closer his shots became less wild, managing to score several hits on one raider's torso, and killing one outright with a round through the neck.

The raider's didn't stand a real chance, with the addition of the Courier's band to the firefight their fragile morale shattered, and they began running, only to be cut down by the NCR troopers. Once the raiders had been routed the trio of troopers practically ran to thank the Courier. Courier smiled as they praised his shot, and shook one's hand before sending them on their way. Boone watched the troopers leave as he lit a cigarette.

"It's getting dark, probably ought to find someplace to sleep tonight," Courier stated nonchalantly.

"This is raider territory," Boone sighed "If we stay here we're gonna have to set up watches,"

Courier shrugged "Guess I'll go first then, that place good?" he pointed at a two story shop that was still standing on a street corner.

Boone huffed, which Courier took to mean "yeah" or possibly "Fuck if I care", and the group walked inside.

It wasn't a bad place, the counters and shelves were still in good condition, and the upstairs was a pre-war apartment that was still partially furnished. Boone sat on the large windowsill, which was windowless now, and laid his rifle across his lap. Courier scratched his head as he watched him.

"Y'know I was gonna take first watch," he stated plainly.

"It's ok, I got it, get some sleep," Boone replied without looking toward him.

Courier thought of an argument, but he knew that Boone's arguing style was one word responses that lead to possible violence, and he decided to lie down near in a corner as Veronica had claimed the bed already, and ED-E hovered quietly facing the stairway.

Within minutes the two of them were snoozing away, leaving Boone to his thoughts. As much as he didn't like to admit it, he was having a good time traveling; it was almost like back when he joined the NCR. Back when it was just him and Manny, two wide eyed teens training, and joking together at Camp McCarran. Boone eyed the skyline wistfully as his mind wandered over those happy memories until they went the eventual route they always took. First, to that night, the night of smoke covered sky and regrets. Then they went to the memories of the rocky outcrop where he pulled the trigger on his love, and his child. He tried so hard to convince himself that it was what she would've wanted, that it was a mercy compared to the life she would've had to endure, but he always screamed inside himself that he could've done something to rescue her. That he could've charged into that camp and freed her and the others, but he couldn't change the past.

He pulled the small flask out of his pocket, swilling the meager contents around before downing them in one gulp. He looked back at the Courier on the ground before noticing that a pair of eyes was watching him.

"I didn't know you drank," she whispered to him as she quietly sat on a chair next to him.

Shit, he thought, this is the last person I wanted to see me drinking.

"Want to talk?" she asked him "You seem sad about something,"

"It's nothing, go back to sleep. You're last watch,"

"No, something's bugging you, and if we're gonna travel together you can at least chat a little,"

Boone glared at her through his glasses.

"I'll make a deal, you tell me what's wrong, and I'll tell you why I really left to go with you guys,"

Boone eyed her suspiciously, they already knew she was Brotherhood since she'd let it slip to Courier, but what was she hiding?

"Deal," he stated, he needed to know her reason for fear of being shot in the back later on.

"You first,"

"No way, your deal so you first,"

Veronica shifted, her eyes darting from Boone to the floor.

"I-I was sent out because I defied the Elder… Err… More like tried to change things,"

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted to get them to change things, and they were too set in their ways to change. So, they sent me out. Not exiling me, but putting me on a 'long term mission',"

Boone nodded as Veronica played with her pneumatic gauntlet.

"I left Novac because the Courier helped me kill someone," he stated bluntly.

Veronica's eyes went wide at his statement.

"W-w-why'd you kill someone?" she stammered.

"The person I killed… Sold my wife to the Legion,"

Veronica said nothing in response, casting her eyes back to the floor, and beginning to chew on her thumb.

"Courier came into town, offered to help find the person, and once it was done he even offered to take me with him to the Strip. Despite what I'd done,"

"He seems awfully nice despite what happened to him, and very accepting despite my background,"

Boone nodded "He's something alright,"

Boone yawned slightly; it was nearing the next person's shift anyway.

"I'll take second shift," Veronica said "Get some rest Boone,"

"Alright… Veronica," Boone said as he stepped over toward the bed.

The next morning the trio left the store with a slightly better understanding of each other, well, for Boone and Veronica.

Next stop was Freeside, and then the Strip, but what after that? What would be in store for them after the Courier got the answers to the questions he was going to ask Benny?

None of them knew, but the thing they did know was that the Courier they were with was someone they didn't mind being with at all.

Sorry for the long hiatus, my WoW guild just started making serious progress in Firelands, and my Paladin is officially an awesome DPS. I also got my hands on Lonesome Road, Gun Runner's Arsenal, and the Courier's Stash. Finished Lonesome Road, and nearly shed manly tears at ED-E's "Death". Expect to see the GRA's add-ons weaponry in future chapters, along with serious jumping in storyline. I plan to get through the confrontation at the Tops before doing a set of "vignette's" that detail companion recruitment and dialogue, along with side quests and eventually the first DLC. I take a lot of inspiration from Pookie2's writing style, but I'm making my Courier a little more… Vicious than hers, and the story a little darker.


	19. Mojave Sunrise pt 1

"No, no, I agree, it's a very pretty gun,"

Veronica scoffed as she set another freshly made 10mm round off to the side, and began making another. The group had stopped at the Gun Runner's booth to resupply before entering Freeside, but they hadn't expected the Courier to have a rather large amount of looted objects to sell.

And they also hadn't expected him to argue with a robot for two hours.

The argument had reached such a fevered pitch that a representative named Isaac had come out to handle the trades, and the Courier had talked him down enough to get a hold of a few boxes of ammunition, and a 10mm submachine gun (which was in very nice condition) with a pressed steel skeleton stock.

"Did you get enough ammunition for it?" she overheard Boone ask as they walked over to her.

"I s'pose, not like I can't always buy more,"

"Not the point. Spraying rounds everywhere isn't the best idea,"

"We all can't be snipers Boone,"

Boone scoffed and lit a cigarette.

"We're heading to Freeside right?" Veronica asked as she slipped a reloaded magazine into her pistol.

"Yes ma'am we are, and from there we go into the Strip,"

"I think it costs a lot of money to get into the Strip though," She cocked her head quizzically.

"Well… Then we find some way to make the caps," Courier said as he made a slight adjustment to the iron sights of the SMG.

The walk from the Gun Runners stand to Freeside wasn't very far at all, barely a street block north of the Vendortron itself. The gates we open, as was customary during day hours, with a pair of rough looking teens wearing dark blue jeans, and white tees with rolled up sleeves. They passed a courtesy nod towards the group, with one taking a long look a Veronica's behind as she passed. As the group passed a trio of rough looking men standing outside a ruined store Courier pointed out a destination. Said destination was a pre-war diner that had been "re-opened" and smelled heavily of meat, and booze.

The group, sans Eddy as they didn't much like floating eyeballs, sat down in a partially damaged booth before a young girl came up to take their order.

"I'll have a bowl of Molerat stew," said Veronica.

"Hrm… I'll take a Brahmin steak if you got one," Courier smiled.

"Just water for me," Boone spoke quietly as he watched the passerby's outside.

The young woman left to fill the orders and the group sat quietly for a second.

"So, has anyone been here before?" Six asked.

"Once, long time ago, but never inside the Strip," Boone stated, while Veronica shrugged.

"Where did you go?"

"Went to a casino called the Atomic Wrangler, was across the street from a fancy gun shop,"

"Like, shiny fancy or complex fancy?"

"The kind that if you didn't have proper knowledge of it you'd be likely to melt your own hand off,"

"Don't tell him that, he'll want to go see them now," Veronica cut in.

Before Six could rebuke the not-so-fictional statement the girl laid out their meals, and took the payment from Six. They ate at a partially rushed pace, as the crowd was starting to pour in. Once finished Boone led them deeper into Freeside, past a crumbling fort, and through an artificial wall made of piled cars, and passing through the doors cut into a large metro bus guarded by another pair of youths wearing the same as the pair at Freeside's entrance.

Inner Freeside was a fraction less crowded than Outer Freeside; Courier reasoned that the majority of the crowd was probably at the casino, or eating. They followed Boone down a few streets until they reached the brightened lights of the Atomic Wrangler Casino, and the even "brighter" street barkers, who were scantily clad teenage girls.

"This is the place?" Courier asked.

"Yeah," he chuckled "Carla got so pissed that me and Manny blew a hundred caps on blackjack here,"

He chuckled for a few seconds before coughing and starting to light a cigarette. Courier and Veronica started walking inside before Courier noticed that Boone wasn't following.

"Go ahead without me," he said "They got a no smoking rule,"

Courier nodded and stepped inside, he knew Boone was lying, but there was no sense in forcing him to relive memories.

The first smell that hit the duo's noses was that of sex, and lots of it, but that wasn't a huge surprise seeing as how half of the women Six could see were clearly prostitutes. The two of them moved over to a nearby bar where a middle-aged brunette was hurriedly serving drinks to waiting customers. She assailed them for orders as they sat on the cracked vinyl stools.

"What do you want? C'mon I ain't got all night,"

"Uhh… Rum & Nuka and a Mojave Sunrise," Courier instinctively responded.

The woman nodded and began filling two glasses while Veronica turned to look at Six.

"A Mojave Sunrise? I appreciate the drink and all, but I ain't that kind of girl,"

"Huh? Oh, I don't exactly know why I said those drinks in particular,"

Veronica scrunched her nose as she gave him a squinty eyed stare, only to be interrupted by the delivery of their drinks. Six paid for them, and began hitting the frazzled woman for information as Veronica sniffed her drink. She'd never had one of these before, but the stories she heard from people at the Trading Post were enough to make her take small sips.

It was a rather odd mix of flavors to her, but she could definitely taste the whiskey in it. The drink was popular amongst many due to the heavy alcoholic base, with just enough juice from various fruits to cover the burn, letting the imbiber become happily drunk quite quickly if they weren't smart with the sip size.

Veronica sipped it slowly as she panned over the crowd, giggling quietly at the intoxicated crowd. This is something she had never been around before. She came from a Brotherhood of Steel bunker, and they did not cut loose like this. That kind of activity was looked down upon, if not punished by a superior. Her reverie was disturbed by the Courier.

"C'mon, we gotta go meet this guy called Old Ben,"

"Huh, wha? Old Ben?"

"Yeah, he's playing blackjack right now. I'm gonna get some chips and ask him some questions,"

Veronica shrugged and sipped her drink as she followed Courier across the room. I think this drink is kicking in, she thought to herself as she found it a little more difficult to walk straight.

****

_Yeah, I've been on a sort of a break lately due to being 6/7 in Firelands. Needed to refine my rotation in Retribution, and I read the latest Gaunt's Ghosts novel, but I am back and working toward long ass chapters filled with details and story and funneh moments and so on so forth._


	20. Mojave Sunrise pt 2

As he talked the man known as Old Ben up for information about the Strip the Courier learned something interesting.

Drunken Veronica was a damn good gambler.

As he chatted up Ben, Veronica had settled down with his chips to play several rounds of blackjack, and was currently up around 600 caps. This hadn't gone unnoticed however, one of the casino's owners came around to bring her a fresh drink, and offered her a comped room or "services".

"Nothanksh," she'd mumbled to him as she set another handful of chips down to bet.

Ben chuckled at her as he lit a cigarette, offering one to Six as he did so.

"No thanks, I wanted to know how much it cost to get a… Passport you said?"

"Yeah, costs you about a thousand caps nowadays. House has been pretty uptight just what kind of people get into the nicer places,"

Courier nodded as he overheard Veronica cheering about winning another hand.

"Well, do you know anything about the casinos?"

"Which one you want to know about?"

"The Tops,"

Ben nodded as he took a drink from his glass.

"Yeah, swingin' joint, run by the Chairmen, not a bad place to lose money,"

"You know a guy called Benny? Wears a checkered suit?"

Ben's eyes snapped directly to his.

"I'd watch out for him, somethin' 'bout him throws me way off,"

"Really? No shit,"

Ben then began to tell Courier about his past, about all the jobs he'd held over the years, which were many. Courier half listened and half watched a teetering Veronica win another hand of blackjack. His eyes then caught the dealer nodding toward a few guards, and he knew it was time to leave for a while.

"C'mon Veronica, Boone's waiting for us outside," he pulled her by the arm off the stool.

"Wuh-wait lemme get mah chips," she grumbled.

He helped her stack all the chips she'd won on a little tray, and carry it over to cash them in. All the while he eyed the guards that were moving closer to them. He let her cash the chips in herself, and chat up the attendant while he confronted the two men.

"Listen guys, we're gonna get outta here," he chuckled with his hands up making them visible to the men.

"Yeah, s'pose we may help you outta here," The slightly burlier one stated.

"Yeah, maybe we help you all the way outta this side of town," The skinnier one spoke.

"Guys… Guys," Courier said as he used the back of his palms to widen his coat.

The two guards, clad in sewn leather armor, went eyes wide at the small arsenal the man had. Despite the metallic breastplate he wore, and the blade dangling in its scabbard, the man had a fancy looking pistol holstered under his left armpit, and a revolver holstered right where his belt buckle would be. Needless to say he was more than better armed than the two guards with their cheap armor and single barrel shotguns strapped to their shoulders. They parted for the duo almost wordlessly, and once they were gone, found themselves on the "business" side of Francine Garret's hand.

Boone chuckled as he watched Courier escort the stumbling Veronica out the dual doors.

"Why we gotta leeeeeaaaaave? I was winnin' lotsa stuff, and I left muh drink," she slurred whiningly at Courier.

"Because winning in a casino is bad Veronica, especially at the rate you were going,"

"I'm guessing she was the good luck charm?" Boone smiled.

"Yeah, won almost nine hundred caps," Courier sighed.

"I won a lot, and the man brought me drinks, and they-they-they were good," Veronica giggled.

Boone gave her a confused look.

"Never drank before?" he asked her.

"Why yes I have sir, I drink water all the time, and sarsaparilla, and Nuka cola,"

Boone went dead silent as the Courier laughed loudly.

"What was her poison?" he grumbled at Courier.

"Mo-mo-mmmmmoooojaaave sunrise," Veronica stuttered.

"Yeah, she's had probably three maybe more," Courier said as he held her up.

Boone sighed heavily "Let's just get to the Strip and find a place to stay for the night,"

"Whass wrong with Freeside? Thurs nice places here! Lookit that nice ol' car!"

"Yep, she's drunk as hell," Courier stated "Better go buy a passport, and hope we go enough for a room on the Strip,"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean passport?" Boone stopped Courier from walking off.

"Uhh, we gotta but a passport to get into the Strip,"

"How much?"

"Thousand caps,"

Boone's eyes went wide behind his glasses.

"For all three of us?"

Courier chuckled hesitantly.

"Thousand… Per person," he avoided Boone's glare.

"How are we all getting into the Strip then?"

"Ben said that as long as we traveled together we could all get in with one passport,"

"Who the FUCK is Ben?"

"Err… Old Ben, y'know..."

"No, no I don't,"

"Well, he's the one who told me about the Strip, and that Benny is definitely at the Tops,"

Boone growled as he stalked behind Courier as he carried Veronica up to the Strip gate. Once there two very large robots stopped them.

"Present your passport please," its monotone voice asked.

"Err… I need to purchase one," Courier said.

"Required payment is one thousand caps per passport," it stated loudly as a small flap opened to accept payment.

Courier reached in his coat for the large "purse" he carried all the caps in, and let them spill into the robot. Once they all had gone in the robot stood still for a second as it counted all the caps and printed a laminated passport. It also returned a handful of caps that were over the 1000 requirement.

By "returned" it meant shot out onto the ground, which made Veronica loudly proclaim that the robot had "shit itself" and cackle loudly as Boone collected the caps.

After that little interaction the robot let the trio into the Strip, and the Courier got a glimpse at what the world was like before the war. The Strip was a cacophony of bright lights, loud music, pretty women, and dazzlingly well preserved buildings. The trio stumbled through a small throng of people before they were approached by another robot, but this one didn't bear the portrait of a police officer, instead it had that of a cowboy.

"Well howdy partner, didn't expect to see you here so soon," it said to them with a slight southern drawl.

Boone saw Courier smirk at the robot.

"Hey Victor, what're you doin' here?"

"Just moseying about, actually I got something important to tell ya,"

"What's that Victor?"

"Mr. House wants to see you; he's over there at the Lucky 38, why don'tcha just follow me on up there?"

Courier looked over at Boone, who just shrugged, and then at Veronica who had started to doze off on his shoulder. Rolling his eyes, Courier picked her up in both hands and nodded at Victor. The robot led them down the street to the Lucky 38, a giant spire of a building with a ring at the top, and as if on cue the doors began to open, accompanied by bright lights and small fanfare which was starting to draw a crowd.

Sensing that they were going to be mobbed, Courier rushed inside with Boone, and heard the doors shut behind him.

"Now, yer friends are gonna have to stay here while you talk to the boss, but I'll watch them reeeeeaaal close now for ya," Victor said as he pressed the elevator button.

Courier handed Veronica to Boone, and stepped inside the doors to the lift. No words were exchanged between any of them as the doors shut, and Courier felt his stomach flop as the elevator quickly ascended.


	21. Meeting the Man

His hands were sweating as the elevator crept up the multitude of floors to the casino's penthouse.

Six didn't like the small metal compartment he shared with the securitron, and especially didn't like the feeling of vertigo he experienced being lifted so far above the ground.

He felt no better once the doors finally opened and a humanoid robot greeted him.

In fact, it was much more human-looking than any robot he'd ever seen.

Its body was more human the face, being a blank template of a woman's, and lacking a moving mouth. Instead, its lips stretched into a wide smile, teeth replaced by a metal grill that issued forth it's high, tinny, female voice.

"You must be here to see Mr. House!"

Six barely managed to nod, and being appeased by that, the robot turned to lead him around the small rotunda into a pseudo office. Six followed a short distance behind, sizing up the body of the robot, which is what made it "female". The robot possessed desirable curves, for a robot, and its feet were designed to look like she was wearing high heels. The entire amalgamation disturbed Six, but he waived it off as "she" prompted him to descend a small flight of stairs and approach a beautiful oaken desk.

Six walked hesitantly over toward it, suddenly shocked by a sudden buzz of the projector switching on, displaying a tall handsome man colored dim blue sitting at the desk.

"Do sit down Courier Six,"

The holograms voice was smooth, svelte, commanding as it brandished toward the seat opposite of it. Hesitating for a second, Six slowly placed himself in the padded chair.

"Now, I assume you've brought my package?" the hologram leant forward, clasping its hands under its chin.

"Y-you're Mr. House?" Six stumbled out.

A flash of annoyance crossed the blue visage.

"Who else would I be?"

Six mentally slapped himself.

"My package?"

Shit, he thought, he hasn't gotten the bad news yet.

"Well, uh... There may be a problem with that," Six confessed.

One of House's eyebrows rose.

"You mean to tell me you still haven't recovered the item from Benny?"

Six's eyes went wide for a second.

"You know about the Benny situation?"

Another look of annoyance, staying put this time.

"Yes, I keep tabs on all my investments. Benny is currently in the Tops as of yesterday,"

Six breathed a sigh of relief, he halfway expected Benny to be gone by now.

House sighed and stood, walking around the desk until he was close enough to raise the hairs on Six's arms. He sat on the edge of the desk, playing with the fingers of his left hand.

"I have little time to sit here and dally on about jobs that should be finished. I need that package from Benny, and I'm still willing to pay your contracted fee if you return it before next week,"

House didn't even make eye contact as he spoke, seemingly more interested in picking at his nails.

"I will allow you and your... Companions use of the Presidential Suite until the time I release you from my employment, but this does not grant you access to any other rooms, floors, or facilities. Is that clear?"

Six nodded, surprised that House was so calm.

"Good, now if you please, leave my office and do not return without my package. Jane will see you out," he motioned toward the feminine robot

_Later in the Presidential Suite..._

"So that's it? We march into the Tops and take the package from the leader of the Chairmen? Seems like a good idea," Boone scoffed as he rooted through the refrigerator in the suite's kitchen.

"If you got a better idea I'd love to fuckin' hear it. If not, then we gotta figure out some sort of plan here," Six retorted.

Finding a can of baked beans, Boone returned to the table, prying the can open with a knife.

"Whelp, seems like we may have to do this quiet," Boone admitted as he scooped up some beans on the edge of the knife.

"What's the plan? Sneak in and kill Benny?"

Boone coughed out a mouthful.

"Hell no! That's a shit idea if I ever heard one. I got a better one, and it'll take all three of us,"

Six scratched the side of his face, mentally chiding himself for not shaving off the thick stubble.

"Well, we got until next week to get this package back. I'm going to get some sleep, and we'll talk about this when Veronica is sober,"

Boone nodded, still eating the cold food, as Six made his way to the guest bedroom. Veronica had "claimed" the bedroom when he and Boone carried her into the suite.

As he lay on the mattress, Six quietly prayed that his sleep remained dreamless as he slipped under the covers.

_From the Author..._

_So yeah, it's been fuggin' forever since I updated. WoW does that to you, and having a rushed officer promotion due to massive amounts of drama does not help. BUT a friend has been encouraging me to write more, and it seems that my recently acquired music/movies is providing much needed inspiration and adaption to style._

_Before you ask, yes I played havoc with the female robot, and no she's not like ME3's EDI. She more follows Metropolis' titular female, and expect to see more holo-House and her in the future as I expand their roles in the story._


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